6.

LO! the golden light is peering;
Let the dimness fleet away,
Which so long hath kept us veering
From the narrow path astray.

May the morn, sweet calmness breathing,
Keep us morn-like, chaste and pure,
In our lips no falsehood sheathing,

In our hearts no sin obscure.

So the day, all smoothly gliding,
May preserve our tongue from guile,
Eyes from wandering, feet from sliding,
Hands from aught that can defile.

All day long an eye is o'er us,

Which our every secret knows,

Sees our every step before us,

From first morn till evening's close.

To the Father praise unending,
To the Son and Spirit blest,
Still from age to age ascending,
Be throughout all worlds addressed.

WILLIAM J. COPELAND, 1848, from the Latin of
M. AURELIUS PRUDENTIUS CLEMENS, d. circa 418.

7.

FORTH in Thy name, O Lord, I go,
My daily labour to pursue,

Thee, only Thee, resolved to know
In all I think, or speak, or do.

The task Thy wisdom hath assigned
O let me cheerfully fulfil;

In all my works Thy presence find,
And prove Thy good and perfect will.

Thee may I set at my right hand,

Whose eyes mine inmost substance see,
And labour on at Thy command,
And offer all my works to Thee.

Give me to bear Thy easy yoke,

And every moment watch and pray,

And still to things eternal look,

And hasten to Thy glorious day;

For Thee delightfully employ

Whate'er Thy bounteous grace hath given,

And run my course with even joy,

And closely walk with Thee to heaven.

CHARLES WESLEY, 1749.

8.

COME, my soul, thou must be waking:
Now is breaking

O'er the earth another day:

Come to Him who made this splendour;
See thou render

All thy feeble strength can pay.

Gladly hail the light returning:
Ready burning

Be the incense of thy powers:
For the night is safely ended:
God hath tended

With His care thy helpless hours.

Pray that He may prosper ever
Each endeavour,

When thine aim is good and true;
But that He may ever thwart thee,
And convert thee,

When thou evil wouldst pursue.

Think that He thy ways beholdeth—
He unfoldeth

Every fault that lurks within;
Every stain of shame glossed over
Can discover,

And discern each deed of sin.

Therefore God's free gifts abuse not,
Light refuse not,

But His Spirit's voice obey:

Soon shall joy thy brow be wreathing,

Splendour breathing,

Fairer than the fairest day.

HENRY J. BUCKOLL, 1842, from the German of Baron von CaniTZ, 1700 (based upon an earlier anonymous translation, 1838).